The Dalton Horror Story
by Salazar-Tipton
Summary: Thirty years ago a tragic fire killed two students at Dalton Academy. The graduates from that year decided to open the school up so their sons may attend. But the madness they remember has left the school. There is something darker here now.
1. Chapter 1

About thirty years ago a tragedy occurred in a small Ohio town. Now, no one will talk about it. Dalton Academy used to be known for housing the rich and famous' boys. The school was top of the line. It was a safe haven for most of its residents until one boy came to the school. All that the youth of its alumnus' know is that two students perished in a fire. Soon after, the school was shut down. The last boys at the school grew up and took over their parents empires or made careers of their own. Over the years, some of them never lost touch. They still hosted New Year's Eve parties that could scare off Charlie Sheen. But every time the saw each other a dark cloud hung over them, friends lost and a home destroyed, no matter how hard they tried it was never gone. These, now, men got together under the umbrella of one last crazy idea. After years of meeting in secret and discussing ways to go about it they made a decision. The Dalton boys would have their own sons attend their beloved school no matter what. Dalton Academy opened again under new management. At first, the others from the school thought it a terrible idea, but after each and every one was approached by a familiar set of twins, the school began to fill up. Hopefully this new breed of young men will keep away the madness of Dalton Academy.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Alex stepped through the giant doors with ornate designs in the woodwork. He walked into the foyer and looked around his uncles' old home, Windsor House. His father, Shane Randall, spent some time here visiting his brother and someone else – or so he thinks.

The only time he had ever heard of the other boy in Windsor his father had an interest in seeing was when Uncle Kurt had a bit too much wine at dinner and decided it was time for a talk, man to man. What started as how wonderful Dalton was/is/will be - he didn't seem to know which tense would fit best - began to twist into something dark. He never mentioned a name, but he slipped hints about him: tripping everywhere, those doe-eyes, his strawberry curls, and the wardrobe! The next day Alex asked Kurt what he had meant last night with his ramblings. He'd never seen the color drain so quickly from someone before. His uncle was visible shaken, but tried to shrug it off as Alex having another one of his dreams. He ruffled his dark curls before turning into the kitchen with a sullen expression.

The hall was impressive; the marble, cascading staircases, the wainscoting in deep, rich wood, but this type of luxury was no stranger to Alex. He'd always been well off with one of his fathers, Micah Randall, being the award winning photographer and his other, Shane, being _the_ dance instructor to the stars after having a career on Broadway with his brother, Blaine Anderson, and his husband, Kurt Hummel-Anderson.

He turned in a circle, taking in his new surrounds he heard so much about. This was going to be his new home. His uncles stepped through the archway. Kurt's eyes were already watering while Blaine patted him soothingly on the back and gave a sad smile. A young man, maybe 17 in age, came down the stairs to greet them with an almost-too-wide grin. "Mr. Anderson and Mr. Hummel-Anderson," he shook their hands with a firm grip. "And this must be Alex!" He extended his hand, but was met with an icy glare instead of the customary smile and handshake. Alex rolled his eyes after a moment and turned away, uninterested. His uncles were displeased with his behavior, but were used to it by this point. They didn't bother voicing their opinions on the topic again. "I'm Jason Brightman." A light sparked in Kurt and Blaine's eyes. "I'm the prefect of Windsor for the time being until we can hold a proper election. I'll show you to your room."

The two adults let smirks grow on their faces as they followed the blonde up the stairs to the second floor. Alex continued down the hall with his head down ghosting in Jason's footsteps, but his uncles stopped at two doorways directly across from each other. Their hands caressed the scarred wood. The prefect stopped at the very end and turned the handle of an easily ignorable door. It opened to reveal a room far different than any others. Unlike the rest of the dorms, this room was kept just how the last occupant had left it. Alex prodded the cushy walls and smiled. A choke came from behind them. Kurt was trying to hold it together. "My father thought this room would suit him best," Jason said in a sad tone. Alex was about to ask why, but when he turned his uncles and Jason were headed down the hall discussing some of the improvements.

The goodbyes were quick, but for Alex any second would be far too long. The Broadway stars were on their way back to New York within twenty minutes of their arrival. "Thank goodness," he thought as he watched their SUV pull out of the guarded grounds. Jason was the only other student in Dalton for the moment. In the next week many others would be flocking in, but for now he would enjoy the solitude. Thankfully Jason got the idea that Alex liked to be left alone.

He went back up to his padded room. There was plenty of time to wander the halls, might as well take it slow. Alex leaned against the white padding and let his body slide down to the cushy floor. "Who the hell had this room," he thought aloud. He'd met most of the "conspirators" at parties or on vacations with his uncles. They were hard to avoid. _Mr. Houston, maybe? No. He'd have torn the place apart looking for signs of demons. Mr. Hughes looked like he could use a padded cell every once in a while. _Alex moved over to his small, raised bed. He eyed the wardrobe. His parents had said not to build one here, but what they don't know won't hurt them.

An hour and a half later, Alex's bed was at least four feet in the air and beneath it was the most colorful blanket fort he had ever built. At home, his fort took up half his bedroom. Since he was little, he'd always had a fort of some kind. Almost every day, Micah came home to find the couches torn apart and their cushions stacked in a strategic manner against one of the walls. And without fail, when he approached the fortress he'd be pelted with Nerf darts. Sadly, Alex wasn't permitted to bring his Nerf collection the Brightmans had bought him over the years for birthdays, un-birthdays, and Christmases. Something about a balcony accident...

The Grandfather clock in the hall chimed nine. Jason was in the common room Skyping with someone. Alex had fallen asleep in his fort. _The Stranger _was slipping out of his hands. A pale, small hand took the book slowly from him and set in beside him. The small, round face tilted to the side and watched the boy with such familiar curls. He removed his oval glasses from the sleeping boy's face and set them on top of the book. Alex shifted in his sleep at the cold touch. The lights flickered out.


	2. Chapter 2

Jason sat up and rubbed his eyes. It was going to be a long day; so many people were arriving and the first prefects' meeting was this night. He needed to introduce each student of Windsor to each other, show them their rooms, explain how their schedules would work until classes started, and keep the house in good order. Then, he had to greet all of the parents and family members with perfect poise and word choice or else the entire day might as well have been thrown away along with any chance of him being named prefect of Windsor for the year (and hopefully much longer than that). Even though elections weren't until next week, he was sure someone was going to wheedle their way past him in the polls.

He picked his laptop up off the floor and headed up to his room. "Alright, I need to double check the incoming list, make sure I know the parents' names and how to address them..." Jason muttered on to himself as he climbed the staircase.

Alex was still asleep, hidden in his reading fort. A boy was spinning in his desk chair silently. He would have woken the sleeping boy and introduced himself, but that would become awkward and creepy very quickly and he wasn't too good at handling those kinds of situations. (That could be because he was never that skilled at dealing with his own social awkwardness.)

The spinning slowly came to a halt and let his eyes adjust to the room before examining every new detail: the desk was covered in unpacked boxes; two large duffle bags, one striped and the other plaid, sat on the floor in the closet; the bed held the rest of Alex's belongings that he had hastily thrown about when he was search for the proper parts for his fort.

The boy stood up and walked across the padded room to the large closet-more like a spare bedroom. His hands ghosted over the empty shelves; outlining the shaped of objects long gone. He looked down at the bags, then to the blanket fort. No movement. He bent down and unzipped the striped bag. He winced as a low _rriiiipp _filled the room. He looked back at the fort, frozen in place, wide-eyed. Alex could be heard moving around some of the blankets, but soon settled back into the fluffy mass with his face to the wall, and his back to the closet.

Air released from the intruder's lungs in a grateful sigh. He turned back to the bag, now fully opened. Inside were a mass of striped sweaters and dark v-neck tee shirts. He shuffled the top laid aside to find some plain button down shirts. _Clearly no taste for high fashion. How disappointing, _he thought. _But maybe I can change that this semester. _He smirked at the thought. He felt the fabrics between his slender, ivory fingers. He did the same as he examined the second bag. It was filled with baggy khakis and faded straight-cut jeans, along with a few over-sized sweaters.

Alex shifted in his cocoon and groaned at the morning light. He placed the balls of his feet on the legs of the bed and wrapped his hands around the legs by his head and stretched. His eyelids clenched shut before he relaxed his face and opened his eyes. For a moment he was blinded by the morning light. He jerked upward too quickly and banged his head against the metal frame of his bed.

"Ow!" He clutched his head and blinked a few times. He clambered for his glasses that were folded shut and placed neatly on his book beside his pillow. _I could have sworn I just saw someone... _He thought to himself.

The room was just as he'd left it last night; nothing was out of place, not a single thing.

* * *

After conquering the awkwardness and anxiety of the first time in a new communal shower, Alex was dressed and sitting on one of the many leather couches in the common room. Jason was sitting across from him with a manila folder by his side and papers stacked neatly atop the coffee table between them.

"As you know, today most people that will be joining us in Windsor," Jason said as he motioned to the building around them. "I think it would be best if you introduced yourself to everyone and helped them get settled. Might as well start off on the right foot."

"I see you spoke with my fathers," Alex responded, arms crossed across his chest. Jason bowed his head slightly and gave a sheepish smile. He leaned forward before looking Alex right in the eyes.

"Yes, they contacted my father about some concerns. My job here is to make sure you're doing okay, and if you aren't, I'm here to help you. I know how that sounds, but this is serious stuff." He reached over the table and put a hand on Alex's knee. Alex swallowed hard, fighting the burning in the inner corners of his eyes. "I'm here for you, Alex." Alex shifted uncomfortably under his touch.

They sat like that for a good moment. Nothing moved, no sounds came from the rest of the house. Alex nodded and fled the room. Jason watched as he rounded the corner and took the stairs two a a time. He let out a heavily, audible sigh once he was out of sight. Jason dropped his head in his hands and clutched at his blonde head of hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Within the hour boys had begun arriving. SUVs and sports cars littered the newly paved parking lots. Parents stood in close circles speaking with one another-catching up. Their kids stood aloof near the fully packed cars, waiting for their parents to help them unpack. The three prefects were off to the sides with clipboards: Jason stood tall and strong with a too-wide smile on his face, his clipboard out in front; the Stuart prefect looked near boredom, his clipboard dangling from his fingers at his side; the Hanover prefect stood uncomfortably with his clipboard tight to his chest under his crossed arms.

On a small bench in the courtyard sat two boys: one was the small boy from Alex's room; the other had dark brown, hair and sat with his long legs spread out in front of him.

"So, which one is he?" The dark-haired boy asked.

"He's not out here," the other responded. "Alex is hiding out in my...his room. You'll see him soon enough."

"I don't know about that. I'm not planning on joining in on your plan." The smaller boy turned to him, his brows knitting together.

"What do you mean? You were fine with this before!" The dark-haired boy turned with a smirk and raised an eyebrow.

"I never said anything. I simply listened to your babbling." He crossed his legs. "You can do as you wish, but I'm going to join in on this insanity."

"Come on," the smaller boy said. "It's not like you have anything better to do." The taller boy sighed heavily.

"Do you really want anyone to go through that again? What happened to you, anyway?"

* * *

Alex peaked out his window into the parking lot. None of these guys looked like someone he would get along with very well. He recognized a few of them from parties his uncles had taken him to.

Rob Houston-buzzed black hair, average height, stark, pale skin-was leaning against his father's Chevy Impala which quickly gained Mr. Houston's attention. Jason walked over to them and checked his name off the clipboard. Windsor.

Then, Jason walked over to J Wright. He never told Alex his name when they first met at one of J's father's benefits. He simply asked to be called J-nothing more, nothing less. As he and Jason spoke, his father made his way over to them, Logan Wright.

_That's surprising. Why would he be in Windsor? _Alex thought to himself. Mr. Wright was known for his time as prefect of Stuart. _Why would he put his son in here?_

The Windsor prefect went from family to family signing in the new students he was responsible for. The Stuart prefect, on the other hand, didn't seem to be doing his job at all. He had walked over to Stuart about ten minutes previous and sat down. He stayed there on the steps and waiting for the boys and their families to approach him. Then there was Hanover. Their prefect stood away from the mass of people and called out names. The corresponding student or parent would go over to have his name checked off. From what Alex knew about the three houses, none of this was making any sense.

Alex spun in his chair away from the window to face his box covered desk. He sighed at the mess and stood.

"Might as well work on this. Good excuse to not deal with that," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Over in Stuart house, people were bustling about: carting luggage back and forth, squabbling over where things should be in the room, wishing for parents to leave already, wishing for kids to calm down and listen. It's no wonder the prefect was nowhere to be found. For once, Stuart house was the chaotic one, and Windsor was stiflingly calm.

Everyone through Windsor was quiet. There was no chaos-no yelling, no bustle-just calm. The new residents moved through their rooms in silence, putting away their things and avoiding eye contact with their new roommates. Jason stood in the main entranceway waiting for a few stragglers to check in. Alex finished stacking his books in the shoe cubbies inside his large closet. The small red-haired boy peered in through his cracked-open door.

Hanover house was bustling with chatter-people exchanging introductions. Roommates quizzing each other to find common interests, parents chatting up one another, the prefect helping some of the younger siblings of the newcomers carry boxes in from the SUVs in the parking lot.

Dalton was no longer the place the alumnus spoke of to their children, and by their choice, it seemed. What could they be up to? Why would they deliberately destroy what the houses they love stand for?


End file.
